Begin the End
by Shinigami Hunter
Summary: Allen will never love Kanda as much as he loves Mana, and Kanda can never replace Mana.. but they can always start over. Yullen Week, Playground, Steam, and Foreign theme, Christmas and Allen's b-day, all in one. Weird. I know. AU, sorta psychological.


Ugh.. so this is like, uber late, so I kind of decided last minute (Christmas Eve) to make it a conglomeration fic.

**Themes:** Playground, Steam, Foreign, a Christmas fic, and Allen's B-day fic. iknorite, it's not gonna work out.

But it will.

Haha.

This is, like, my second favorite one. Well, it's tied with _A Simple Favor_. This is so long.. longest one I've ever written, aside from that 10k word chapter for _Perception_, which is not going to be updated, so uh, don't bother. Yeah. It sucks, too, so don't read it. 8D I should probably take it down.

WELL, THAT BEING SAID. This one-shot is also written in a weird way. There's like, three different styles of writing, and it's kind of weird, so.. yeah.. the stuff in italics isn't really part of what's happening, it's more to give background info, and some of them continue from the previous one.

Yeah, I told you. It makes no sense.

But anyway.

There's a happy ending (OMG?!?!), so enjoy~

**EDIT (12/30/08):** I've just read online that Britain's temperature rarely drops below -10 degrees... but uh... 8D Oh well~ M'sorry for all you British, if any, who read this and go "wth, -35 degrees?" and uh, take offense to that, though I don't see any reason why you should. 3;;

* * *

:+:

_**Begin the End**_

:+:

It's negative 35 degrees.

It's negative thirty-_fucking_-five degrees.

It's fucking_ below_ _zero_ out there, and that brat was _crazy_ enough to stay outside for _god knows how long_.

"Yuu, you should go find him."

"What the fuck? No! It's fucking freezing out there!" Kanda snarls back, rubbing his arms vigorously as a reflex to the mere thought of heading out into the blizzard.

"But he was under _your_ care, Yuu," Lavi raises an eyebrow, leaning forward on his seat and onto Kanda's desk, ignoring the dangerous looking in the Japanese's eyes. "And he still is. Until you get fired or he dies, of course."

"_Che,_" Kanda's eyes narrow. "I wasn't the one responsible for keeping him, and _everyone_ else, _inside_ the building."

"And it wasn't mine, either, so stop taking it out on me." The red head gives him lopsided grin. "Either way, he probably won't come back unless Boric goes out and gets him, and even then we're not so sure."

"That muscle bound idiot isn't even part of the staff."

"Exactly."

"And neither are _you_, for that matter," Kanda drawls lazily, kicking his feet up onto the desk and nudging at Lavi's head with it. "So stop bothering me and get the fuck out of my office and back to your room."

"Right, Yuu. I still think you should go find him." Lavi beams and hops out of his seat, skips out of the room, but pauses at the doorway. "I may be psycho, but I've been here long enough to know the difference between someone who wants to escape and someone who just wants help."

The paperweight leaves a dent in the wall, and Kanda proceeds to glare at said dent for the rest of the afternoon.

:+:

"Kanda."

Half ready to strangle the nearest person, Kanda suppresses such an urge and turns around to face Linali Li, another of the staff members at the Black Order Institute.

At least Linali knew better than to wear mid-thigh skirts and sleeveless tops in this weather, even though she should have been _wearing_ that giant coat she was holding in her arms.

"_What_?" he grinds out, not exactly in the mood for light talk.

"Go find him."

"Not this _again_."

Linali frowns. "I've already gone out and tried, and so has Skinn. He won't budge at all."

Kanda rolls his eyes with a scoff as they continue down the hallway. "And that's _my_ problem.. how?"

"_You_ are his therapist, Kanda."

"I'm _not_ a therapist," The Japanese snaps back. "I'm merely a psychology major studying the minds of criminals, _okay_?"

"Yeah. Sure," Linali rolls her eyes as well. "_Whatever_. Just get your cute ass out there and bring him back in before anyone else freezes to death trying."

"Oh, yeah, it's nice to know that you asses care _so much_ about me."

"If you don't go, Komui and Jerry will gang up on you."

The threat of Linali's brother with a sister complex and that absolutely-positively-has-to-be-gay cook trying to get him to go out into the blizzard is enough to actually get him to_ go out_.

But.

"It's freezing out there."

"I know," A large, oversized coat was dumped in his arms. "That's why I brought this for you."

"Gee, thanks so fucking much."

"You're welcome, Kanda!"

:+:

"It's seriously fucking cold out here," Kanda mutters to himself, pulling the notorious orange hand knitted scarf, courtesy of one deranged rabbit, up to cover his nose and pulling the coat closer. "What the fuck is that brat thinking?"

And despite all of his complaining, he continues down the yellow brick road – literally. Or rather, it used to be the yellow brick road. Now it's just a dirty path covered in snow.

"Che. There aren't even any places to hide in. Damn idiots must've torn down every single building within 10 miles of this hellhouse."

He can't even see 5 feet in front of him, let alone find out where in the world that brat could've run off to.

"It's fuckin' _cold_, dammit."

But he keeps walking, occasionally kicking aside the ice to find out if he's still on the right path.

And pretty soon, he knows where the brat is; not by sight, not by intuition, but by sound.

"_Soushite bouya wa nemurini tsuite, ikizuku haino nakano honoo…_"

Sounds so much like the gender he's not, has always been like that since he arrived over half a year ago. Stupid brat looks the part, too.

"_Hitotsu.. futatsu.. to… ukabu fukurami itoshii yokogao…_"

"Why the _fuck_ is he always singing that shitty song?" Kanda cursed, walking faster to keep his body temperature up and to get to the brat faster so he can get back to the warmth of his office just as fast. "And _why_ in Japanese?!"

"_Daichi ni taruru ikusenno yume… yume…_"

"What kind of fucking lullaby is that…" He huffs, halting at the end of the road. He can't see the brat, never could in this snow, what with the brat's weird hair and eyes, his already pale skin; idiot practically _blended_ in with the surroundings.

"_Ginno hitomi no yuraga yoru ni..umare ochita kagayaku omae…_"

Another huff of irritation and he strides up to the snow and ice covered playground, finally able to see it after the blizzard has lightened up a bit.

"Why the fuck can I still hear you over this storm, you little _brat_?"

"_Ikuo kuno toshitsukiga… ikutu.. inori wa.. tsuchie kaeshi.. te… mo…_"

He's sitting, ever so still, in the exactly middle of what used to be a red seesaw. His hair, held in place only by a loosely tied bandana over the top of his head, flutters in the wind, its color too old for his age of only a few months over 20.

Okay, so he's actually 22, but who really gives a shit how old you are when you're stuck in a mental hospital with no guarantee of being let out anytime soon.

Kanda doesn't, and he's not even a patient. He turns 25 next year, by the way. Not that anyone gives a damn.

"Jesus _Christ_, it's cold."

"_Watashi wa inori tsuzukeru.. mou.. kakono.. koni.. ai..wo.._"

The voice falters as the Japanese comes to a stop behind him, puffs of breath coming through the muffler and visibly condensing in midair.

"Oi. Brat. Time to head back."

"_Tsunai.. da.. te.. ni…. Kisu..ho….._"

Kanda can hear the piano notes playing in his head, having heard the brat play them so many times before on the electric piano, though it probably would have sounded better on a grand piano or an organ.

Of course, it sounded more like some kind of prayer song than a lullaby.

"Oi." He repeats, sternly. It's no longer as cold as it used to be, and that's not because it stopped snowing, because it hasn't.

"It's pretty, isn't it..?"

He can see the brat's breath, and he doesn't sound like he's very cold despite the fact that he's only wearing a single jacket that couldn't even _pass_ for one.

"It's fucking cold, that's what it is." Kanda retorts, snow crunching under his feet as he circles around to look at the brat. Pale, but healthily so, pink from the cold, mismatched eyes, a dark but fading red scar down the left side of his face. "And you must be crazy to be sitting out here for hours in negative degree weather, freak."

The angelic face frowns, becoming even more endearing if that was even possible as his lower lip jutted out just barely, not enough to be a pout, but enough to be noticed.

"M'not a freak, stupid." Then, like the bipolar brat he is, he smiles, spreading his arms out without disturbing his balance. "It's not cold! And you're not cold right now either, right?"

"Only because I've got his fucking coat on me. I dunno about you, brat, but it's minus 35 and dropping, and it is goddamned cold."

"Heeeh…" his white-haired patient tilts his head, kicking his feet like a little child and swaying slightly.

Kanda scoffs.. "I'm leaving, brat, and you're coming with me."

The frown is back. "No. I don't want to go back there. You're just going to put me in bloody cage for days and days and then ask me weird questions again."

Kanda doesn't falter.

He's seen other Black Order staff members fall prey to those looks, the attractive smile, the simple crinkling of eyes that could melt any heart, no matter how cold, no matter the age.

But Kanda isn't an exception. He just hides it better the others.

"That's my fucking job."

The damn British brat doesn't relent, either.

"I'm not going back there. I want to stay here."

"Well, now I remember why I _hate my fucking job_." Kanda clicks his tongue in annoyance, shoving his half-frozen hands deeper into his pockets. "_Che_. Fucking stubborn idiots."

"Kanda," And he looks up slowly, trying to avoid being drawn in by those wide, mismatched eyes, the left silver, the right a golden brown. "Are you that cold?"

"..No shit, Sherlock."

"But you don't seem to be too cold. You're not shivering like Mana did…" It's not the first time the guy has mentioned his father, or rather, his foster father. He won't specify which. "Skinn and Linali were shivering, too.. but you're not."

"I've got a fucking _coat_, if you'd care to notice."

"So did they," And he sticks his tongue out as though contemplating something with that pea-brain of his. "..Come closer."

Kanda stares at him like he's crazy. It's not like he can refuse though, but that doesn't mean he won't try.

"Kanda…" A bare right hand reaches out and grasps at the end of his scarf, tugging earnestly, and he takes a step closer. "You're cold… aren't you?"

It's like a spell he doesn't want to break out of, no matter how wrong it feels, no matter how wrong it is, and he takes another step. Both hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer into an awkward hug that still has no effect on the seesaw's balance.

He's not cold. He's not cold at all.

"See? Aren't I warm?" the British smiles against his skin, his warm breath drifting across the nape of Kanda's neck. "I'm not a freak, Kanda. I'm warm, just like you are. I'm _human_."

"…You sound like that Portuguese chick, that Rhode Camelot."

"Sister Rhode was with me all those years," the brat answers with with a light chuckle, snuggling even closer if that was possible. "She endured it with me. She's older than me, you know, but she looks younger than me… it's Mana's fault."

It's the first time Kanda's heard that tone of contempt from the man's voice, though it's hard to call him a man when he looks like a teenager who's barely hit puberty. Same with Rhode.

Can't really call someone a woman when they looked like a 12 year old.

"Mana… Mana… Why…?"

"..C'mon. We're going back."

"..Don't wanna.. H-Hey-!"

He's light, too light. Hasn't gained any weight from last time, hasn't grown a single inch, and Kanda hooks one arm around his waist, easily throwing him over his shoulder.

"Let me _down_-!"

"Shut the fuck up, Brit. We're going back before one of us, namely _me_, freezes to death out here."

He's complaining the whole way, but stops after a few minutes, outraged to docile. Happens much too often.

It drives Kanda crazy sometimes.

:+:

Three days. Three days have passed since that escapade.

It's still fucking cold out there.

"I told you already!" Allen Walker pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in an act of defiance. "There's nothing more to say, arsehole."

Kanda sighs and rubs at his temples, resting his other elbow on the desk.

"I've just about had it with you, you little bastard." He growls, tapping the eraser end of a pencil on the wooden surface. "Either talk or I'll do something drastic."

Allen blinks. "Drastic?"

"Yes. _Drastic_. Like, say, _torture_. Doesn't that sound _fun_ as hell?"

The white-haired man looks down, hesitation written all over his face. "…I don't like torture… we've already… enough… torture…"

Finally, some information.

"What kinds?"

"Hungry… Sister Rhode and I were always.. so hungry… and tired… hurt every day…"

Starvation, sleep deprivation, something physical as well, perhaps…

"Sister Rhode ran away… I don't remember how old I was… 16.. 17.."

He's lying against the desk now, silver hair strewn about, strands out of place, tangled, but still angelic. Still breathtaking.

"I didn't have much of an education… Mana taught us to read and write, cooked for us, bought us toys… Mana took care of us… loved us…"

Kanda stays silent, etching each and every word into his brain to recall them whenever he needed to later on.

"..Has sister Rhode told you anything?"

"She never liked to see you hurting," Kanda replies simply, kicking back in his seat. "And she loves people."

"Wrong~!" Allen makes a buzzing sound. "Well, she was like that when I first saw her… I've been with Mana since I was eight or nine… we found Rhode in an alleyway a few years later…" A small smile that seems to brighten the room and make it considerably warmer than it is outside. "She was so happy to see us, sister Rhode…"

A few minutes of silence, but Kanda doesn't press the subject right away. He's learned early on that being impatient and rude won't get you anywhere.

Unless you're Yuu Kanda, that is. So, he presses the subject anyway.

"What happened to change her?"

But Allen had already spaced out, now living in his own fantasy realm, eyes glazed over and unfocused, a faint, content smile on his face.

After a few more minutes of silence and Kanda sighs, takes his feet off the desk, stands up, and heads towards the door.

"We're done, brat. Up and out. I've got more patients than your lazy ass."

The reply he receives is so full of malice and contempt that his breath catches, his body tenses, and adrenaline rushes through his veins in a way that he hasn't felt since… a week ago.

".._Who's the bloody __**brat**__ here_?"

Kanda turns, just barely, and sees the heavy glass paperweight in Allen's hand, aimed at his head. The mad look in those mismatched eyes is more than enough explanation.

In a single flow of movements, the Japanese has the other man's arm locked behind him and pinned against the door.

"Jesus Christ, I take my eyes off you for _one second_ and you lose it."

"Let me go, you bastard! Let go!" Allen shouts, struggling to get free, but he can't because Kanda has trained for this. "Let me go! I don't want to be here anymore!"

It's useless, of course, just like last time, a week ago, and all the times before that.

Rhode was the same; sweet and innocent, and then suddenly she became violent, a complete sadist, always asking for a sharp object so she could hurt someone with it, enjoyed doing it.

Almost like Allen right now.

And it breaks Kanda's heart to see him in such pain, as he leads the 22-year-old back to his room, to see him struggle to the very end, until Linali has to use a tranquilizer to sedate him.

It hurts to see Allen Walker in his padded room, wearing a straightjacket, looking more and more like an insane criminal as each day passed.

:+:

_He's not a coldhearted bastard; no, he's far from it. He may act like one, but only because it gave his patients a change in the normal dull personalities of other psychologists._

_'And how does that make you feel?' is something Kanda will never say to his patient, young or old. He'll put on a mask and act.. __**nice**__ (eurgh) to the younger kids, especially if they're under-aged and didn't already have a colorful language, but he'll never say that stupid, stereotypical phrase._

_Kanda doesn't like stereotypes, because all the people he meets never fit them ones given to them._

_Docile women, obedient children, men who take control… load of bullshit. He's never heard a more pile of lies than that in his life._

_Aside maybe from the one Tiedoll used to tell him about all fathers being nice to their children and shit._

_Fucking pedophile. Thank God he's dead._

:+:

"Kanda~," Allen's sing-song voice washed over his tense form as he read over a packet of papers, a pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Sighing, Kanda puts the reports down and looks up at his British patient. "..Can you take me to the playground?"

"Ask the guards. That's their fucking job."

"They said I need permission." Allen frowns. "Why the bloody hell do I need permission to go outside?"

Jesus Christ, someone get this kid some common sense.

"Why the hell do you want to go there anyway? It's still storming."

The British averts his gaze, looking solemn, sad, reminiscing at the same time.

"Mana used to take me and sister Rhode to the park a lot…"

Kanda huffs, marks his place in the report and puts away his glasses before standing up.

"Fine, fine, brat. S'long as we don't stay out for too damned long." He mutters while pulling on a thick jacket and bright green muffler, courtesy of Lavi again. "I've got an appointment with that fucking rabbit in a few hours."

Allen's smile noticeably brightens, and Kanda feels less irritated at the stupid bunny than he should.

As usual, Kanda ignores the rest of the people in the building as they make their way out of the building. Allen gives them small smiles, waves, passing glances, but Kanda doesn't even acknowledge their existence.

He's not here because of the atmosphere, the pay, or the satisfaction of breaking these people as most would have guessed. He wants to help them, no matter how much it seems the opposite.

He's learned how important these psychologists are when he was 15.

Snow is still falling, not as heavily, and the blizzard as let up just a little bit, enough to see the playground a few yards away, before they even reach the end of the yellow brick road.

With a laugh, Allen jumps onto the seesaw, walks along the plank, and balances himself in the center.

"I've always liked the seesaw… it's only fun when you play with more than one person." He grins, trying to make it move by shifting his weight, but failing wonderfully. "Mana liked the swings, because you can play on them alone. He said you don't need to have friends to play on the swings."

"Che."

"Mana used to take me and sister Rhode to the park.. he'd play with us, push us on the swings… tell us stories…" With a sigh, he did a clumsy pirouette, almost falling off in the process but regaining his balance at the last second. A good thing, because Kanda wouldn't have caught him if he fell.

"What kind of stories?" Kanda asks, half out of interest, half out of responsibility to do his job.

"Mana told us stories about kids who've lost their parents.. how we should be grateful to have Mana.. and that we're all alone, no one wants us. He said we're lucky to be alive."

Psychological… Mana Walker. Why did the name sound so familiar? Mana.. Mana Walker.. Walker…

"Mana often told sister Rhode and me how pretty we were when we played on the seesaw. He said he could make me prettier, too."

"You actually listened to what he said?"

"Well, obviously. Lookit my hair and eyes." Allen points to his head, indicating the snow-white locks, and his mismatched eyes. "Mana was so happy afterwards.. I didn't really know what to say. I was so young…"

_Experimentation, and definitely something mental.. illegal operations, as well.. maybe._

Kanda steps closer; not too close, but close enough to study the unnatural color of Allen's hair. And he turns his head to look at the Japanese, the wind lifting his bangs enough to show small black crosses on his forehead.

He's been meaning ask about those, but he hasn't found an excuse to.

Until now.

Raising a hand, Kanda points (rather elegantly, mind you) at the largest of the crosses in the center of Allen's forehead.

"Did your father do that, too?"

"Mana's not my father, doofus." Allen pouts again, swatting away Kanda's finger. "My parents left when I was 8… and Mana found me."

Before Kanda can say anything, Allen jumps at him, tackling him into the snow. He lands on his back with a soft grunt, immediately pushing the other man off to the side with a glare.

"What the _fuck_ was that for?!"

Allen merely laughs and rolls in the white powder, turning his hair whiter than necessary. Muttering curses to himself under his breath, Kanda sits up and leans against the seesaw, watching the 22-year-old murderer have the time of his life.

Cheeks flushing pink from the cold, Allen throws himself onto Kanda's lap, only to be roughly pushed off and back onto the cold snow.

"Mana let me and sister Rhode lie in his lap whenever it was cold, so we'd be warm." Allen explains with a slight pout, taking a seat next to his doctor/psychologist/counselor/really attractive father-type-person, or something. Pulling off his bandana, he points to the seven crosses on his head. "Mana would tell us over and over that… that we'd have better lives because of this."

"What are they?"

"Stitches." Another forlorn smile, though it's more like a frown. "Mana cut open sister Rhode's head first.. he did something to her. I don't know what, though, but after that, sister Rhode started being violent sometimes. She started hurting animals with sharp candles at first, but then Mana gave her a knife.. Mana called sister Rhode a 'success'."

_Alteration of the cerebral cortex, maybe. Change in personality… a test subject._

"Then he did the same thing to me." A soft thump, Allen's head falls onto Kanda's shoulder, refusing to remove it even after the Japanese tries to shake him off. "He called me a… 'failure'…"

Mental abuse, physical, psychological, illegal operations—

"Mana killed my parents."

A sudden change of subject, but Kanda's used to it. Best not to force the mentally unstable to stick to a single subject for too long. This, too, he learned from experience.

"Really."

"Yeah. Kanda?"

"What?"

"You're weird." Kanda snorts at this and lets out a long stream of breath, watching as it swirls in the air and disappears. "Everyone else says 'oh, you poor thing', or 'I'm so sorry', or something sad…" Allen makes a futile attempt to snuggle up to the stoic Japanese, who promptly pushes him away. "But you just brush it off like it's nothing, Kanda. Why?"

"Che."

"Tell me~! I told you my past, you should tell me yours."

To say this was the first time he'd been asked this would be an understatement. Every job he applied for would question him about his attitude problem, his past, his criminal record… In the end, he only had a limited choice of occupations.

"My parents were killers." Kanda says with little difficulty, even though it's truly hurting him to dig up the past. "I killed them when I was 5, though I was pardoned. No one believes that a five-year-old would be a killer. I got adopted by a fucking pedophile, all three of my adopted brothers grew up to be drug dealers, and that shithead of a father didn't give a crap about what we did."

"That sounds…" Allen's face scrunched up in concentration. "Er.. really.."

"Fucked up."

"I'd rather _not_ say that, but _okay_."

"Che. Dysfunctional family, if you could even call it one. No one did any drugs, though; they just bought and sold, though Marie may have tried making some in that basement… explains why he suddenly went blind." A light laugh, amused, something he hasn't done in a long, long time. "And it's not like Tiedoll was doing anything _bad_, just a little too touchy-feely."

"Heeh.. so even Kanda had a hard life.."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Allen's head tilted up at him from his position in Kanda's lap. How the brat managed to get there without Kanda noticing, he didn't know.

"You always seem so aloof and.. well, high and mighty. That's what Lavi said."

"That jackass is gonna die."

"Yeah, okay, we kinda thought you were the son of a psychologist or a doctor who had his whole life planned out from the beginning, since you talk like we're inferior and all…"

"Ha, ha, ha. As if."

"So…" Allen trails off, trying to catch Kanda's eyes. The Japanese, however, chose to keep them closed and so was spared the sympathetic look from those pools of platinum.

"What now?"

"..How are they, uh, doing?"

"Who?"

"Your family."

Allen's breath is somehow on his face, and Kanda knows that the man has decided to sit up right in front of him. Kanda opens his eyes, a shade darker than their usual indigo blue, and blinks, stares at the childish man in front of him, and looks to the side with something akin to shame flickering in his eyes.

"I killed them."

:+:

Steam, and the smell of lavender and mint.

Kanda stares at the pot and cup of tea in front of him, trying to make some sense of the flower buds and mint leaves in the light amber liquid.

He hasn't had any tea in a while, what with all the work, reports, trying to make sense of what these psychopaths are trying to tell him. Help them solve their problems, get these freaks treated so they can… something…

Why the fuck is he helping these crazy inmates, again?

"Kanda, drink it before it gets cold." Allen smiles, hands folded neatly in his lap, looking as polite and dainty as always.

Except when his brain goes out of whack and he starts throwing a pissy fit, but that's not often, so we can ignore that.

Kanda lowers his glasses to peer at the beverage, wary, in case one of the staff members decided it would be a good joke to slip a laxative into his drink, or worse yet, poison.

"It's not spiked, prick." The brat sighs, eyes rolling in exasperation, and he pours himself a cup to prove it. "Linali thought you might need it, because you're spending so much time at work and not enough for your own health, or so she said. Whatever that means."

"Uh huh." He carefully moves the cup aside and sets down a new stack of papers, tapping the first page with a fancy pen. "Well, I've got work to do, so.. scram."

"Kanda…" The dangerous note underlining Allen's tone makes Kanda freeze, yet again. His grip on his pen tightens, the tip digging into the paper. "Linali made that tea because she was _worried_ about you."

With a shaky breath, the Japanese crosses out a series of words on the sheet in front of him, rejecting the tempting offer of making eye contact with Allen's demonic side. Seconds pass, silent and heavy, and the pressing gaze of mismatched eyes refuse to let up.

Five minutes go by, and the tea has stopped steaming by then, but Allen still hasn't reverted back.

If only there was a switch to do so…

"Kanda…"

And there's _definitely_ something going on with the brat, because really, who in their _right_ mind tries to _seduce_ Yuu Kanda while he's _working_?

Allen, apparently. But then again, he's not in his right mind, so he doesn't count.

"Off the desk, brat. I need that work space."

Huffing, Allen sinks back into the cushioned chair and crosses his arms with a rejected pout.

"Just trying to get you to drink the tea before it gets cold."

"That's a rather strange way to go about it. And it probably already is," Kanda comments with a shrug, crossing out numerous words and figures on his paper. "I prefer green tea, anyway."

"But, Kanda," And he's leaning against Kanda's desk again, fingers laced, not a single hair out of place. "You need to get some rest or you'll collapse from exhaustion."

"Che. Like that'll happen to me."

But Kanda's already aware that he needs to rest, take some time off, get a few hours sleep at the very least.. but he can't. Hasn't slept in a while, has been working all night for days so far, and it's taking a toll on his attitude. He's more irate than ever, and Lavi doesn't even try and risk his insane ass to try and get a laugh out of him anymore.

Stupid rabbit has always had too much energy and free time for his own good.

"Why are you still in my fuckin' office?" Kanda sighs, resting his elbows on the wooden surface, frowning at the way the smile on the other man's innocent face widens. "I don't have any appointments today, and especially none for you since you came in just yesterday."

"Not until you drink the tea, Kanda."

Kanda can tell that he brat is back to normal, or as normal as he can be, because there is no longer that shadow over his eyes, in them, under their surface. He doesn't know how he can tell, he just knows.

Knows how the faint creases on the man's forehead deepen, can read his emotion through the slightest twitch of his lips, the minute changes in the diameter of his pupils, the widening of his eyes, both of them.

Eyes so valuable, like jewels; one gold and copper, the other silver and platinum, both as pure as their respective elements.

Kanda sees the darkness in them, of his past, his present, his future. Undetermined, yet so determined, to get through, to get past those obstacles in his life.

He's stubborn, every inch of him is, from his hair down to the way he dresses, wearing whatever he wants, his personality, never giving in to hardship.

Allen doesn't wear the bandana anymore, not when he's in Kanda's office, at least. He doesn't have to hide them anymore.

The black cross-like stitches on his forehead stand out against pale skin, reminding the Japanese that it's not his fault he's acting the way he is.

It's Mana's.

All Mana's fault.

The tea's cold, no longer steaming, but that's fine. Cold tea is just as good as hot tea, still has the same effects. Lavender and mint.

"So, how is it?"

"Cold."

Chuckling, Allen takes the spare cup and pours himself some of the cooled tea.

"I haven't been able to sleep lately, either. I keep having these bad dreams…"

Kanda spares him a glance. "I'm not a dream interpreter. Go find someone else."

"I had a dream about Mana," Allen begins, not really caring whether or not Kanda is listening to him. He is, even though he pretends not to. "I dreamt about a fire… Mana burned my arm in the fireplace… I guess he forgot to put it out afterwards."

Again with the fire. Kanda's heard this dream a few times already, but it still bothers him.

"I dreamt the house was on fire… Mana was on fire… My arm was still burning… it was the same thing that happened before Mana died…"

"Your arm's fine though, right?" Kanda asks in a light drawl, pointing at Allen's gloved left arm with his pen. "Hasn't been hurting lately?"

The British shakes his head and proceeds to pull off the black and white glove, revealing pale peach skin, littered with burn marks and scars.

"It doesn't hurt at all… but it looked different in my dream," Allen hums, flexing his bony, seemingly malnourished fingers and staring at them with sudden interest. "My skin was red.. and really wrinkly. And my nails were black."

"Hn."

"I wonder what it means…"

"You want to know?"

"Ah, so you _were_ listening, Kanda!" Allen claps happily, like a child who has just been given enough money to buy all the toys he wants. "Yes, I do want to know what my dreams mean, especially if they're going to keep me from getting a good night's sleep."

"Che. Fine. Don't go running like a girl afterwards."

:+:

_Ah…_

_That's right…_

_This is the reason.._

_This is why Kanda hates his job._

_Should've just stayed in Japan.. should've stayed in that orphanage, found a better family.. one that didn't deal so much with crime and the law._

_And this is why._

:+:

Mana Walker, former scientist-turned-neurosurgeon, fired for performing experiments without his patients' permissions. Something must have happened in his childhood to make him that way, to want to cut open peoples' head and toy around with their brain like God.

Must have loved his children, would have, if he had any. No, he only had Allen Walker and Rhode Camelot.

Allen… abandoned by his parents at a circus, lived there for eight years, raised to be a performer, street entertainment. Found by Mana, adopted, loved.. finally.

Rhode was a little harder to investigate, being merely found in the alley with nothing other than her name and some tattered rags.

The files in Mana's house had burned up too…

Their life must have been hell. Kanda almost feels sorry for them.

Almost.

When Kanda first met Allen in the lobby, he thought it was an old man about to drop dead at any moment. He looked so tired, so worn out, fed up with life, like he'd lost everything in his life and had nothing left to live for.

At another glance, the old man turned out to be a young one, looked way too young to be in that place.

Allen still looks the same now, still has that baby fat on his cheeks, a childish voice that could be mistaken for a woman's, short, stubborn. Refused to die even though he had no reason to live.

He'd been through numerous therapists and psychologists, all of which had been scared away by his violent outbursts, usually after the first one. Went through 7 within two months before he was sent to the Black Order.

Kanda was his first and only doctor, though he refused to be called as such. Hated being called a doctor. He's not a doctor, doesn't have the education to be one.

Even now, Kanda's the only one who won't run away when Allen's personality takes a dive for the worst and he starts chucking paperweights and trying to stab people with pens or whatever he can get his hands on.

Unlike Rhode, though, Allen feels guilty, even if it's not really his fault that he does those things. Allen doesn't like what he does, always blames himself.

Kanda hears him crying through the padded walls of his room when he walks by.

:+:

_Yeah.. he hates his job, sometimes. Absolutely loathes it…_

_The responsibilities that come with listening to the lives of former criminals.. he's not afraid of the threats, no. He can deal with those._

_Kanda has stared death in the eye a few times while in JV, and he's still alive, so what're a few threats going to do to him?_

_Nah.. he's not afraid of death.. not his own, at least._

:+:

Kanda leans back in his seat, covering his face with a heavy sigh. He shoulders tremble, barely noticeable unless you know how to look.

It's been a long week, and an even longer day.

Piles of papers to look through, reports to sort out, information to research.. That's his job, after all. Of course he takes it seriously.

He didn't get let out of prison early for good behavior for no reason, didn't spend 7 years studying law and psychology to get his degree for no reason, didn't come back to the same asylum he spent a year in _for no reason_.

He didn't come back to relive memories, to wallow in his misery or any shit like that. No…

He came back to help the same person who helped him.

Cross Marian was a refreshing change from the normally irritating therapists. Hell, the man waved a _gun_ around whenever Kanda talked back.

Not that it wasn't nice to actually get a reply to his curses and insults.

But Marian was a terrible alcoholic and smoke addict, even when Kanda was under his care. By the time Kanda graduated and earned his degree, the red-head had died of lung cancer and too much alcohol in his bloodstream, leaving a gaping hole in the Black Order's staff numbers, one that Kanda intended to fill in for the deceased man.

Kanda adopted the same mannerisms, rough, brutal, and straightforward with his questions. He took in mostly the violent and insane, though he didn't need a gun. A sword was fine, and even that was rarely used.

It was tough, being one of only four psychologists at the Black Order, and the youngest one there at that. Sure, Linali was a year younger, but she worked at the infirmary and delivered beverages. She didn't sit in a chair listening to murderers spill the beans about what their parents did to them.

Linali wouldn't have been able to handle it, if her brother even let one of those psychos stay in the same room as her for longer than three seconds.

No, it wasn't those life stories that Kanda hated; he's seen his own share of such things enough to not be so affected by them.

Allen…

The brat was so far gone that it took Kanda almost a week to get even the littlest bit of information out of him. But Kanda didn't give up.

The stupid beansprout reminded him so much of himself when he first arrived at the Black Order, completely isolating himself from the outside world and refusing to say anything except 'che'.

Allen would only say 'Mana'.

:+:

_Tiedoll liked children. He liked them.. a lot._

_Too much, maybe._

_Kanda hated that old man, still does, even if he's grateful for being taken in and given a new chance at life._

_To be honest, his childhood hadn't been that bad. His parents didn't ignore him or avoid him like the plague, nor did they lie to him about being murderers. They were nice to him, didn't beat him, nothing more than a slap on the hand for reaching for one of father's prized sniper rifles put on display._

_School was a bitch, though; being one of the minority races at his school never went well. Everything from his skin, his eyes, his hair.. but of course, every punch thrown at him was thrown back with double force._

_If there was one single thing he was grateful for from his adopted brothers, it was being taught how to smash someone's face in. With a lot of force._

_No wonder he was sent to rehab._

:+:

Mana, Mana.. Mana. Everything was about Mana, like that British brat was obsessed with him, a dead man, someone he _killed_.

Sorry, he sobs, I'm sorry, Mana.

Everyone is sorry for Allen, pities him, coddles him like a little child that he mentally is. A mental state stuck back in the teen ages, constantly acting like a kid, a brat, so annoying.

So obsessed with Mana Walker.

Makes him sick.

Good thing the brat made some progress from when he first arrived, finally speaking sentences that didn't involve that four-letter name.

And Kanda hated calling Linali up to his office with the sedatives every time the brat's other side took over.

:+:

_So he had a nice family. What of it? Yes, the family members were __**wonderful**__, if not completely annoying. What reason did Kanda have to brutally murder them?_

_No one knows, really. The police, authority, the law, relatives if any.. no one knows._

_Only Marian knew, and he took that secret with him to the grave._

_Kanda's actually glad he hadn't told anyone before that. _

_Who knows where the truth would have put him._

:+:

"You… loved.. Mana. You loved him.

But you don't _love_ him.

Not anymore.

Your dream.. Mana set fire to the house, to you, to himself… he was desperate. He saw his actions as wrong, immoral, but it was too late.

You're alone, Allen. Rhode's dead, you know. Of course you know, that's why you're here. You killed her, too, to keep that secret from getting out. You did a good job. No one suspected a thing.

It seemed like suicide enough.

You drove her crazy, picked her apart with guilt and shame, helped her stand up, kicked her down, drove her out of the house. You hated her. You hated her for stealing Mana.

And you hated Mana for being stolen.

Of course, you don't remember killing them. You were admitted into this hospital with the condition of being bipolar, but that's not true. You're not really bipolar; Mana did something to your brain that made you who you are right now, the one sitting in front of me.

And you know it. Not consciously, of course. Your other side.. not really another personality, because you share thoughts. Not all thoughts, but some of them. You know when you lose it and start attacking people, you know, because those thoughts are shared.

Those crimes, though.. killing Mana and Rhode – I'm sure those are the only two you've killed, so far, and I'll make sure those are the only ones – you don't know about those, so it's no use asking you about it.

I'm only making assumptions, of course. There's no evidence, other than what's in your mind, but-

-but.. I've known you for more than half a year, Allen. Or should I say, I've _only_ known you for that long. You don't seem to hate anyone… not even the really bad tempered ones.

We're complete opposites, Allen, in terms of our motives.

Did you forget? I killed my family, just as you killed yours.

You killed yours in hatred. You kill because you hate. You only kill those you hate.

Me…

You'd think I'd have the same reason. Killing out of spite, out of hate. But.. no.. that's not the truth.

I didn't hate my parents. Annoyed at them, irritated, maybe. Fed up.. but I didn't hate them. They were nice to me. Very nice.

So I killed them.

They were murderers anyway. They would've been caught and sent to jail soon enough. I didn't want my parents to be in jail, wasting away, so I killed them. Because I loved them, because they loved me. I didn't want them to suffer.

Tiedoll… he was okay.. I hated him at first, Daisya, Marie, Chaoji.. I hated all of them, so I didn't kill them. Not at first, anyway. By the time I realized how much they'd grown on me, they were already in deep shit. I managed to chase away the authorities a few times.. but…

I killed them. I knew we wouldn't be able to keep up the act for long… Tiedoll was almost charged with sexual harassment of someone's kid. I guess you could say I was fed up with all the police, sick of worrying about where I'd go after all my family got arrested.

So why don't I just kill them. I'd go to jail, and by the time I was let out, I'd be old enough to live alone, get a job, work on my future…

You kill because you hate. I kill because I love. How ironic is that."

"Is that why you hate everyone?"

"…I guess."

"..But you don't hate me."

"….No.. I don't…"

:+:

_Allen…_

_Obsession isn't a healthy thing; I should know.  
_

_You're __**too**__ obsessed… with Mana…_

_To devote all your attention to a single object.. it's like poison._

_Just when you think a single touch will make you stop pining after it, you just want more._

_More, more, and more. It never stops. One touch, one taste, one kiss; it's like a drug. You can't get enough of it._

_Even when you knew the truth, you still loved him.. but do you still love him now, Allen Walker?_

_You're a pitiful bastard, you are. 22 years old, and you still want your father to come back to life, even though you killed him._

_You set that fire. You didn't really love Mana. Not after what he did to you and Rhode._

_He cut your head open, for crying out loud._

_You would've looked so much better without those horrid stitches, permanent, eternal…_

_Can you still love him, after all he's done to you?_

_Allen…_

_I should have known you'd try something like this._

_You're a Christmas kid. Born on Christmas, adopted on Christmas… Rhode was found on Christmas… You killed Mana on Christmas, you killed Rhode on Christmas… And now…_

_It's snowing, Allen. It's cold, too._

_The playground is so empty…_

_The tea is bland…_

_It's not the same without you here, Allen._

:+:

Kanda's glad he knows English; he should, considering all the time he's spent in Britain, outside of Japan.

Foreign country doesn't make him very comfortable, but that's normal. He's never comfortable unless he's beating the shit out of someone, and that feeling only lasts until he's finished with the violence.

Yeah, you can say he's got problems, but he's already gone to a therapist/psychologist/doctor for that. He's cured, for the most part. Almost.

Okay, so he's still got those tendencies to lash out and crack someone's skull, or at least a hard surface, but he's getting better at controlling them.

Especially since he stopped working at the Black Order.

Kanda's got an office of his own somewhere in London, not too popular, but he still gets clients. Enough to make a living, but hardly enough to buy some more furnishings.

Not that he wants more, anyway.

"…and.. doctor, are you listening?"

"Don't call me doctor." Kanda snaps back as a reflex before biting the inside of his cheek. Seriously, he's got to kick the habit soon. He straightens out the stack of papers on his desk that are mostly blank.

His client/patient looks tense, like she's expecting an answer she's already gotten. Stupid shrinks.

"Well.. we're gonna have to schedule another appointment, if you want to. I can't give a diagnosis with this little to work with." He sighs, rubbing his temples and tapping his pen on the desk. "When's the next date you're free?"

The tanned actress blinks again, for reasons he doesn't know nor care about, and she pulls a memo book from her purse.

"Um, well.. I don't have anything scheduled for all of next Friday."

"Around 5 pm, then. Friday."

She leaves uneventfully, high heels clacking noisily on the wooden floor as she hurries out of the office and into an amber gold Porsche.

Amber.. and gold.. silver and platinum..

He sighs again, sinking back into the leather chair in front of his desk. He'll sit there for a few more minutes, take time to recollect his thoughts, shove some of them into a mental cabinet and store them away, and then he'll leave for home.

Home is a rather generic word, though.

Kanda doesn't see that cold, empty building as a home.

:+:

_Prison was dark, lonely, and it didn't do much good for his university applications. It's a good thing one of those stupid guards noticed that Kanda's violent tendencies needed psychological treatment, or he'd still be stuck in that dank place._

_The Black Order felt the same way. Walls all round, bars and cages, menacing, even though they're for the inmates and not the staff._

_But they're still there, and that makes all the difference. Makes you feel caged, holed up, locked in, and no freedom._

_Kanda didn't mind. He had things to do to take his mind off of his surroundings._

_Allen was there. Kanda had to help Allen get better. That was all he thought about._

_Help Allen. Help him._

_And then Allen disappeared, and working at the Black Order suddenly felt like being an inmate all over again._

_Dark… Lonely… Caged…_

…_No hope._

:+:

He thought he was hearing things, that same song, the same sweet voice. A Japanese lullaby he's never heard before, never sung by anyone else, except one person.

Just one person knew that song, and that person was sitting in the exact center of the red seesaw, swaying slightly, singing, a clear voice that could be heard over the storm.

A song that brings back memories, good ones, and ones he'd rather not see again.

It's not that long a walk to the playground, so Kanda throws on a thick jacket and marches outside, not caring what his neighbor, Sachiko, says about zero visibility. Kanda doesn't need to see.

He can hear the stupid brat's voice, and that alone is enough to guide him there.

Lost, that's what he looks like. Lost, lonely. Vacant, like a piece of him had broken off and disappeared.

His hair is still white as ever, his eyes still mismatched, though they now lack the fire that used to be there.

And he still isn't cold.

"..Who are you?"

Kanda stands there for a few minutes, staring, wondering, and the brat asks the question again.

"..Who are you? Where am I? You know, don't you?" A pleading tone, not quite obvious, but it's still there. "You know.. I don't know… you… know… who I am…"

Kanda doesn't answer him, just drags him away from the playground and back to his apartment. He receives no complaint or objection.

"…Who are you?"

:+:

_When Christmas came around, Allen ran away._

_Every thought he died out in the blizzard, in the storm, but Kanda knew.. he knew Allen wouldn't kill himself. He wasn't brave enough to do that._

_Allen would wander around, looking for a reason to live after knowing that his previous reason, Mana, had never loved him. A new reason._

_Kanda supposed he could never be that reason to keep Allen alive._

_He could never be Mana's replacement…_

_Could never hope to be Allen's reason to live…_

:+:

"Kanda. Yuu Kanda. If you call me Yuu, I'll kick you out."

The snow-white head tilts to the side, blinking owlishly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes that vanishes a second later.

"..Who am I?"

"Allen," Kanda has his arms crossed, his eyes narrowing in worry and slight irritation. "Your name is Allen Walker.. and you have amnesia."

:+:

_Two years since they've seen each other._

_Neither of them have changed._

_Allen could never love him as much as he loved Mana._

_He could never be a replacement for Mana… never will be…_

_Not back then, anyway.  
_

_But they can always start over._

:+:

A month later, it's snowing again, and it's cold.

The playground near his apartment is usually iced over, and the children don't come by much, especially during the holidays.

The seesaw looks so lonely…

Kanda pulls into the driveway with a screech, driving way too fast for the current conditions, but he doesn't care. He can deal with the tickets.

The front door is unlocked. He'll have to tell the idiot to remember to lock the doors, though it may not have any affect at all.

A cinnamon spice smell hits him when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. It's cold outside, but inside, the room is warm and toasty, courtesy of one white-haired idiot thinking it's a good time to start baking.

"Kanda, is that you?"

"Che. You forgot to lock the door again, stupid."

"I'm not an idiot!" the indignant reply is calming to Kanda's ears, because it means that his patient is getting better, regaining his past self and whatnot. "I went out to buy some ingredients and I kind of got carried away while making cookies for you.."

"You really _are_ an idiot. I don't like sweets, remember?"

Allen peeks around the corner, icing stuck to his cheek, and he frowns.

"Oh.. I forgot… more for me, then!"

Kanda kicks off his boots, tosses his jacket onto the couch, and heads into the steamy kitchen to see what kind of mess the idiot has made of his house.

It's surprisingly clean, something that doesn't really catch him off guard.

"So I see you managed not to blow up the damn oven this time."

"Why can't you ever say anything nice?" Allen frowns again with a slight pout.

Kanda raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"Happy twenty-fuckin'-fourth birthday, beansprout."

"And a merry Christmas to you too, Mr. Grinch."

:+:

_The seesaw tilts from side to side, and then_

_Reset our lives, we can; begin again._

_:+:_

_

* * *

_

What is up with me and those couplets? I need to stop being poetic.. or something...

God, I think they're OOC... D:

Guh.. Happy Yullen Week/Christmas/Hannakuh/Birthday Allen/whatever holiday you celebrate. Happy holidays.

I should say that with more enthusiasm, shouldn't I?

HAPPY HOLIDAYS,

from _Shinigami Hunter_


End file.
